


Stitches and Angels

by songbirdly



Category: Hazbin Hotel (Web Series)
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Alastor is Bad at Feelings (Hazbin Hotel), BAMF Charlie Magne, Blood Magic, Blood and Injury, Emotional Baggage, Everyone Needs A Hug, F/F, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Helpful Alastor (Hazbin Hotel), Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, Love, Protective Alastor (Hazbin Hotel), Protective Vaggie (Hazbin Hotel), Team as Family, Temporary Character Death, Vaggie Deserves the World (Hazbin Hotel), everyone gets hurt, protective charlie magne
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-20
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-12 01:27:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28877178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/songbirdly/pseuds/songbirdly
Summary: Vaggie gets seriously injured when a perplexing entity busts out a gun.Charlie’s angelic blood won’t let her help the girl she loves, and the Radio Demon might actually have to fix things, for once.
Relationships: Alastor & Charlie Magne, Alastor & Charlie Magne & Vaggie, Alastor & Vaggie (Hazbin Hotel), Charlie Magne/Vaggie
Comments: 16
Kudos: 50





	1. The Hotel Associates Might be in a Little Spiff of Trouble

_ “Vaggie!” _

Charlie’s great Stygian wings flared out around her demonic form. With fire burning viciously in her red eyes, she stepped off the edge of the building she had taken refuge on and flew down. The air tainted with brimstone slashed at her face as she fell. It burned.

All her fault.

She had tried to do something good and within minutes her good intentions had brought about peril.

An incredibly pathetic freshly fallen demon had sauntered through Hell demanding to fight the late great Radio Demon. Sinners had laughed at him, but he was quite loud and persistent and it didn’t take long for everyone at the Hazbin Hotel to become aware of the nuisance. Alastor had cackled, sauntering off to shut the poor fool up. Charlie, optimistic as always, had followed him with the hope of stopping any bloodshed and perhaps recruiting the new demon to her program. And, of course, Vaggie had followed her, for she was as wary as Charlie was hopeful.

The poor sinner didn’t last ten seconds. As soon as Alastor was sure of who the nuisance was, he sent a shadow to drag him off, screaming. Everyone around stood in shock for a moment before they continued whatever they had been doing, respectfully avoiding eye contact with the Radio Demon.

Charlie stormed up to him, babbling about how he didn’t even give the poor soul a chance and how he should bring him back so that she could perhaps have a friendly conversation.

Maybe a “hi hello I’m terribly sorry that our resident Overlord just tormented you but could you _please_ consider joining our rehabilitation program?”

Yeah, great idea Charlie.

An unreadable grin was given to her as a response. She had stared down the Radio Demon until he rolled his eyes and with a flick of his wrist he brought the sinner back. He was still screaming, and Alastor gave a whooping laugh at his expense. That was when Vaggie had ran up and swung her spear between the two men, warning them to be civil. As Charlie calmed the sinner down and started talking to him, Vaggie stayed by her side for moral support while keeping her eye locked warily on Alastor. All things considered, the talk had been going well; the sinner was actually listening!

But this was Hell, and nothing ever went right for Charlie.

Being the incurable prankster that he was, Alastor had laughed like the Devil before using his shadow to fling the sinner, screaming again, into the Heavens above.

Metaphorical Heavens. He would have been lucky to end up there.

“Alastor wh— why—“

_“Aha,_ did you see the look on the poor sap’s face? Positively terrified! And _just_ as you were gaining his trust!”

He cackled, and that was when Vaggie lunged at him. It was a flurry of radio dials and white hair before a gunshot rang out. 

Instantly everyone froze. Hearing gunshots wasn’t uncommon in Hell, but who would shoot when the _Radio Demon_ was near, especially when he was actively fighting another demon? Who was that stupid? Apparently one demon was.

Another gunshot, and Charlie felt her hair rush back. That shot had been too close. Vaggie grabbed Charlie’s arm and yanked her behind Alastor, whose demonic form was emerging with an excruciating wail of static.

Another shot and Charlie gasped as molten pain crawled through her right leg. It was a miracle that the bullet had gotten past Alastor and all of his chaos, but Charlie had been shot regardless and she had to think fast. She looped her arm around Vaggie’s waist and willed the bony tips of her wings to emerge. Once the hellish things were out in their full glory, she took to the sky.

“Charlie! Are you alright? Are you hit?”

Her girlfriend’s worried cry prompted Charlie to give her a small smile.

“Yes, and.... yes. I’m alright.”

They landed on a rooftop and Charlie tripped over Vaggie’s legs. The two girls fell in a tangled mess of limbs and feathers. The frame of one of Charlie’s wings dug into her wound and she cried out. Vaggie, worried as always, cupped Charlie’s face for comfort before hauling her to her feet and leading her to the rooftop exit block. Charlie leaned against it as Vaggie checked her leg. The bullet had gone through her thigh, just above the knee. It wasn’t the worst place to be shot, especially for a demon with fast healing, but it would render her pretty helpless for a few hours. Vaggie tore off the bottom of her dress, winding the cloth above Charlie’s wound, making a tourniquet.

“Is it angelic?”

Charlie understood what Vaggie was asking. Angelic weapons would hurt like Hell, ironically, burning the skin and muscle and sinew around the wound. They were _much more_ painful than regular weapons, and although Charlie wouldn’t have been as affected as a sinner she would definitely have been able to tell.

The bullet wound hurt a whole-fucking-lot, but Charlie was certain that it wasn’t the work of an angel’s bullet.

“N-no, just normal metal.”

Vaggie sighed in relief.

Another gun shot rang out from below and Charlie anxiously gripped her girlfriend’s shoulders.

“Vaggie, _Alastor...._ he’s down there alone....”

Vaggie gave an incredulous laugh laced with fear. “Hon, he’s the Radio Demon. He can take care of a shmuck with a gun.”

“But we didn’t.... there was no one there!” She was sure of that. Everyone had run off in terror once Vaggie and Alastor had begun to scuffle.

Another shot sounded.

Confusion flashed across Vaggie’s face, and if Charlie wasn’t mistaken she saw a new concern bubbling up under the worry that Vaggie felt for her girlfriend.

Another shot. Alastor’s static spiked suddenly, and an animalistic growl tore through the air. His shadows wailed and rose higher, bringing clouds of brimstone and dust up around the girls.

Vaggie’s face went slack as her mind worked through what had happened faster than Charlie could.

“Stay here, hon."

And with a quick peck on the cheek Vaggie had ran off. Charlie caught a glimpse of her beautiful moth wings emerging before she dove off the roof.

“Oh God....”

Charlie stumbled as she moved her weight from the wall to her feet, her wings clumsily flailing about. _Stay here,_ Vaggie had told her. Uh huh. Nothing in Hell, literally, was going to stop her from helping her girlfriend and their wayward business partner. She reached the edge of the building, gripping feebly onto the rough stone ledge. Her giant black wings flared out and she must have looked absolutely terrifying to anyone below. Like the Angel of Death from her old book of fairytales.

Many stories below Charlie the Radio Demon was backed against the wall, surrounded by a thick barrier of static and veves. Vaggie was inside the barrier, one hand gripping his own and the other hand holding her spear at the ready, although she wasn’t sure where to point it.

Another shot sounded, hard to hear over Alastor’s static but  _ definitely _ too close to them. As Charlie gazed down, primed to jump, she saw Vaggie waver. And then the girl collapsed like a puppet whose strings were suddenly cut. Her spear clattered down with her and promptly vanished.

Charlie’s eyes swam with terror and turned blood red.

_“Vaggie!”_

She dove off the roof.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hoooo boy!! We need more scary demon princess Charlie. So I give you.... her. Don’t worry Vaggie and Alastor are a-okay!! Not really but y’know. It’s Hell, they’ll heal. No major character death here! ‘Tis but a couple flesh wounds.
> 
> And yes Vaggie has moth wings no you cannot say otherwise she has wings yes she does.
> 
> Thanks for reading, and cömintss are always appreciated!
> 
> Stay tuned~


	2. The Hotel Associates Might be Full of Bullets

Charlie landed on the ground gracelessly, cracking the pavement and sending fire shooting through her right leg and likely fucking up her ankles but _she_ _ didn’t care. _Her wings thumped down on either side, forming a wall of metallic feathers between the shooter and her friends. Her head snapped up, adorned with alabaster horns, and she snarled at her surroundings. Hopefully the shooter would leave now that the princess of Hell was at the ready in her full glory.

No one moved for several agonizing seconds. There was no sound besides Alastor’s static. No more gunshots.

Charlie stood up cautiously, her leg burning with the effort. Her senses strained for any movement, any noise, anything that would alert her of the shooter. Nothing. Her tense muscles began to uncoil as she let herself relax.

_ Vaggie and Alastor. _

Without another thought Charlie spun around and almost whacked the Radio Demon with her wing. The scene was a mess. Alastor was standing ramrod straight with a terrifying smile stretched across his face, eyes turned to radio dials. Blood was cascading down his head and soaking into his shirt collar. It was hard to see exactly where the blood was coming from through the heavy static, but he had definitely been shot in the head and Charlie choked down nausea. Her red eyes flicked to a bloody heap on the ground. Long white hair and pastel moth wings spilled out over the form onto the pavement, framing the hideous sight. Vaggie.

It was painfully clear that they lost the short fight. Charlie spared another glance at the surrounding cityscape before rushing to kneel at Vaggie’s side. Other sinners were starting to creep back, murmuring to themselves and staring at the bloodied princess and Radio Demon. They must have been quite a sight.

The ambitious sinner that Alastor had tossed up into the sky earlier finally fell screaming down. There was a  _ squish _ of flesh and bone rearranging haphazardly as the poor man collided with the pavement. His piss-coloured eyes cracked open and fell on the Radio Demon and the princess, covered in blood and glaring at him. The sinner squeaked in fear and dragged his mangled corpse behind the nearest building. So much for his previous brazen personality.

Charlie carefully pulled her girlfriend so that her head was resting on her lap. An open bullet wound went right through Vaggie’s neck, twisting the flesh around it and leaving her upper body stained red. Maybe Charlie should have cried, but she had prepared herself for worse and her brain switched off her worry in favour of deciding what to do.

There was no smoke, no sizzling around the wound, no smell of burning flesh; it was not angelic. Charlie never,  _ never _ wanted to see Vaggie burning from the inside with an angelic weapon lodged in her— she pushed that thought away.

“Alastor.”

The Radio Demon didn’t move at first. Then his head turned almost completely backwards to look at her with a sickening crack. His ears flicked back, listening intently to their surroundings.

The crowd of onlookers was growing, and some were beginning to hold up phones. Alastor snapped his fingers and shrieks of surprise went up as the phones sparked and smoked. Charlie allowed herself a small chuckle. Of course Alastor’s first concern would be stopping any photographic evidence of their predicament.

When he spoke, his voice skipped in and out like a record with a faulty needle. Charlie had to focus to understand what he was saying: “I do believe we’ve worn out our welcome here.”

Nodding resolutely she reached up and grasped his outstretched hand. The red light of Hell’s afternoon flickered out as shadows flared up around the trio.

Charlie squeezed her eyes shut and wrapped her left arm around Vaggie, holding her close as they fell through the dizzying void that Alastor hopefully still had control over. Empty, airless wind whipped all around them. Charlie could feel it trying to pry her eyelids open, as if begging her to stare into shadows upon shadows of lost souls. The sound of unintelligible, whining chatter filled every gust of wind. Void travel had never felt so oppressive before. Alastor’s claws dug into her palm, probably drawing blood, and she let him.

The wind swirled around them like a tornado before dropping them about ten feet off the ground. Charlie yelped as they landed unceremoniously on her wings. She blinked the red out of her eyes and willed her wings away. Alastor was lying on the ground in a daze with shadowy wisps from the void clinging to his body. Vaggie was still out cold, clutched in Charlie’s arms.

They had been deposited in a dreary lot surrounded by stout stone buildings. Alastor sat up, stiff as a board. He brushed mechanically at the shadows trailing off his suit jacket. He seemed lost in thought.

“A rather vacant industrial area,” he muttered. “Approximately five miles from my hotel.”

_ “Our _ hotel,” Charlie corrected, but there wasn’t any malice in her tone. Her horns receded into her hair, and the terrifying princess of Hell had transformed into a worried, blood-covered girl.

She laid Vaggie out gently to take a look at her injury. A bullet to the neck like that would have instantly killed a human, and Vaggie was, for the time being, dead. Charlie sniffled before shifting her weight to hover right over her girlfriend. She winced at the complaints of her injured leg as she moved.

“That was quite a show back there, Lottie.”

Sharp yellow teeth bared in a wide grin came into view as Alastor shuffled closer and leaned over Vaggie. He had a hand clamped over the bullet wound in his head, which was glowing faintly as he presumably used his magic to heal.

Charlie spared him a tired glance before scrubbing tears out of her eyes. Alastor’s smile twinged slightly.

“Oh dear. I’ve cut your hand.” His voice had stopped skipping.

She gave a watery laugh. “There’s a bullet in your head, Al. Don’t worry about me.”

They both stared down at Vaggie.

_“Well,”_ Alastor stated. “Your darling sheba is looking worse for wear.”

“Does it look bad?”

“Positively grotesque!”

A staticky laugh track sounded and Charlie swatted his arm. Alastor grinned wider, but she could tell he was using up a lot of energy to stay focused and coherent. Less powerful demons would’ve been out like a light with a bullet to the head. Blood was still trickling down his face; the stuff was beginning to stain his teeth red. He was doing better than Vaggie, at least. Out of the three, Charlie was the most capable at the moment.

Charlie could make decisions and be the responsible one. She could fix this! Vaggie would be so proud of her.

She could definitely fix this.

.... Yeah.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *narrator voice* She could not, in fact, fix this.
> 
> Nothing to see here pals, just a dead body. Y’know, normal Hell stuff.
> 
> Also yeah uh Alastor calls Charlie “Lottie”. Why? Because it’s a short-form of Charlotte and it’s cute that’s why.
> 
> Stay tuned~


	3. The Hotel Associates Might be Very Burned

Hovering over the love of her life’s dead body was a.... surreal experience for Charlie. She gnawed at her bottom lip as she pondered.

“Alright. Al, I’m gonna heal her. Can you....” She was inclined to ask him to lie down and rest, but he would certainly scoff and ignore her, “.... can you try to contact Husk or Niffty? Someone to come get us.”

Alastor’s strained expression instantly brightened. “With pleasure, Lottie!”

He skipped off, stumbling slightly but clearly happy to have something to do.

Charlie tried to remember what her mother had told her about healing magic. She was only supposed to use it on herself but Charlie figured that was selfish bullshit. Deep breaths. Maintain  _total confidence_ in her abilities. Let the power flow through her to pool in her fingertips.

Her hair whipped around as her body got uncomfortably warm. She could feel the red of her demonic form creeping back into her eyes, so she closed them and tried to relax. Charlie considered herself a kind soul, but magic in Hell was unruly and destructive and she could easily hurt Vaggie further. She only really used her powers to defend herself. Healing was entirely different.

A little ways off to her right stood Alastor, talking rapid-fire into his microphone. She faintly heard Niffty’s squeaky voice through the static. Good; someone would be coming for them, they’d all get back safely to recover in the hotel. Even though Charlie knew that nothing had gone terribly wrong and everyone would be completely fine within a couple of days, she couldn’t stop herself from worrying.

Charlie had never successfully healed a sinner before. When she was younger, she would sneak out of the palace after Extermination Day and try to save the unlucky souls with spears stuck through them. It had never worked, and when her father caught her he locked her in one of the castle wings with guards surrounding her on every Extermination after.

Vaggie might pose a.... different challenge. Possibly. Maybe she worked the same way as every other sinner, or maybe her stay in Heaven had tainted her; the two of them had talked about Vaggie’s past afterlife, but they couldn’t know for sure whether she was still different. Perhaps, Charlie hoped, healing Vaggie would actually work better. Angels could heal, and both of them were far from angels but.... being optimistic maybe....

Or maybe it would not work at all. Charlie was an abomination created from sin, so it was honestly nuts to think she could heal someone else. She wasn’t a healer, she was the Antichrist for god’s sake.

She pushed that thought and a million of her other self-doubts away, hovering her hands over Vaggie’s body. She could whine about being the Antichrist later, this clearly wasn’t a good time. Charlie was burning now, her fingers glowing a harsh white. She suppressed a whine of discomfort and carefully lowered her hands to place her fingertips around Vaggie’s wound.

Charlie’s skin touched Vaggie’s bloody neck and  _instantaneously_ her fingers punctured through her girlfriend’s skin, driving deeper as a crushing force compelled her powers to  _destroy._ She couldn’t even react at first as all she registered was that her hands were buried in the bloody mess of her girlfriend’s neck. Raw muscle and tissue were oozing against every inch of her glowing hands, but all Charlie could feel was an inferno pulsing all over. She might’ve been screaming by then, in pain and  _disgusted with what she had done._

Two bony red hands shot out and grabbed her own, ripping them out of Vaggie and Charlie could definitely hear herself screaming by then as the contents of Vaggie’s mutilated neck came spilling out. Blood clung to Charlie’s fingers, and as her hands were pulled away the blood stretched between the girls like an elastic band before breaking from her fingers and falling into the red lake around them.

“Hush Charlotte. There is no need to cry.”

Alastor’s attempt of reassurance was so ridiculous that Charlie’s mind could actually focus on it. The fact that he had the audacity to tell her that there was ‘no need to cry’ while her girlfriend was laying on the ground,  _essentially decapitated,_ made Charlie incredibly angry.

The burning inside her grew in intensity and she gave an agonized cry as her vision turned everything red, matching the blood around Vaggie.

_ “Charlotte.” _ Alastor’s voice was stern, and perhaps even concerned.

Charlie couldn’t do anything but whimper and curl up her body, her fingers tightening around his hands. She was  _ on fire _ and all she could see was red,  _ blood red, _ and Alastor’s words were completely drowned out by the roaring in her ears. The noise grew louder, and louder, raging inside her head and along her nerves and she was sure that she was actually on fire. Soon to be  _ nothing _ more than a pile of ash.

Nothing more than ash. The thought was almost calming.

The pain crept back just slightly, it was no longer all-encompassing agony and Charlie became aware again of Alastor beside her. With any bit of strength she had left she willed herself to relax. To truly and completely relax this time, relinquishing all control of her muscles and letting her mind go blank. The burning sensation ebbed away slowly, but Charlie didn’t give herself a chance to notice until there was no feeling left.

“My dear, are you alright?”

She blinked her eyelids sluggishly. “Yes.” Her voice sounded small but surprisingly clear.

Stiff fabric scratched against Charlie’s sore face as Alastor shifted. She realized that she had smushed her face into his jacket, her body slumped over against his chest.

She was too tired to give a damn. All she could care about was that she’d just gruesomely injured her girlfriend. She should’ve expected that. She was the princess of Hell. Created from sin. Carnage and devastation were in her nature.

.... She was pretty sure. She was pretty sure....  
  


She was out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Boy howdy folks!!
> 
> The dead body gets deader. Poor Charlie.
> 
> I’ve been thinking a lot about how Charlie’s powers work, because her father is a fallen angel and her mother is a human-turned-demon. I think that she’s too powerful for her own good, and normally doesn’t use her powers for fear of hurting people. This story is also going to incorporate in the “Vaggie is a fallen angel” theory, because it’s a bop.
> 
> So here’s some ~light angst~!
> 
> Stay tuned~

**Author's Note:**

> Hoooo boy!! We need more scary demon princess Charlie. So I give you.... her. Don’t worry Vaggie and Alastor are a-okay!! Not really but y’know. It’s Hell, they’ll heal. No major character death here! ‘Tis but a couple flesh wounds.
> 
> And yes Vaggie has moth wings no you cannot say otherwise she has wings yes she does.
> 
> Thanks for reading, and cömintss are always appreciated!
> 
> Stay tuned~


End file.
